Strum
by DemiHuman123
Summary: When Brewster asks too much of K.K. Slider, it forces old memories to open up and bleed for the first time in a long time. But is the present and future enough to outweigh the past? SLASH male x male . Brewster x K.K. Slider


**Strum**

By _DemiHuman123_

**--**

I don't own the video game Animal Crossing. I don't own Tom Nook, Mable, Brewster, the villagers, or the coolness that is K.K. Slider aka Totakeke. Nintendo owns them, so nobody better come and sue me because I got a copyright up so I'm fine. I think.

**--**

**RATING: **PG-13 – Slashiness, Sexual Discussion, Hate Crimes, Death

**INSPIRATIONS: ** K.K. Slider is such an enigmatic character. I always wanted to know what his back story was, so I decided to take it upon myself to make one, or at least my take on it. A major inspiration was the Foo Fighter's new album. Wow is it good! Anyways, enjoy!

**(#)** Author's Side Note at the end of fic.

--

"_Oh Me Oh Ke Me_

_Me Me Na, Me Na Oh_

_Me Ke Oh, Oh Me Na_

_Na Me Oh"_

The pale white dog plucked the last string on his guitar and let out a small sigh as the wave of sound fluttered away into the air. His head lay low, eyes closed, lost in his own little world as his lament**(1)** ceased. Removing himself from his chair, he quietly laid down his guitar onto the stage wood, and stood up opening his eyes to the room around himself.

The Roost was the place to go in their little town. The place was decorated to be the ultimate little social bar, THE hangout if you will. The coffee may have been a little pricey at 200 bells per cup, but the bartender certainly knew what he was doing, as not a single person had complained about the price in the short four years said bartender had worked and founded the place.

The bar itself was surrounded by various stools that always seem to carry the most unique of strangers from time to time. Chairs and tables stacked against the wall to allow more people to congregate and just get to know one another better.

Peace was not the word to describe The Roost, as that was an understatement on itself. The stage wasn't the only real interesting thing about the place, that's for sure, but it certainly was the current center of attention, as it was every Saturday night. The best show in town came that night every week between eight o'clock and midnight in the evening.

K.K. Slider, the white dog with guitar always in hand, had just finished his five song session of the night and was ready to hear a little crowd kudos. He opened his eyes slowly, somewhat excited to see how many people had walked in since he had started his lament.

Slider was never the kind of person to really enjoy vast praise, but every so often he loved to hear it. It wasn't that he was very modest or anything, but there was just something pleasing about seeing people every week listen to and enjoy his music. It's one of the reasons he gives out the free bootlegs of his music to everyone. It was his philosophy. Everyone should enjoy his music, because it's his soul, and his soul was free! Of course, the bootlegs never sounded the same though; terrible quality all thanks to a bad recorder that Slider had owned for a few years now. There were days that he wished he could afford a better one, but an independent musician never seems to have enough these days. Besides, it's the thought that counts anyways, he always believed, and that was good enough for him.

His eyes completely open now, he scouted the room for even a little smile. He looked at the tables in front of him, on the floor in front of the stage, and at the stools next to the bar.

Not a single person was there.

"As usual," he muttered under his breath.

Most people would think that the canine would be used to the empty bar by now, but it never seemed to catch up to him.

Sure, every so often that new kid would show up and request or song, or asked to be surprised, and every so often the kid would even bring their friends from other towns to see the show too, but lately, that seemed to be dwindling. Maybe the kid just had better things to do.

With another calm sigh, Slider picks up his old wooden friend from the floor, and slings the strapping over his shoulder. There wasn't any reason to stay behind tonight, so he decided to pack everything up and head out.

"Thanks for the time as usual," he said aloud jumping off the stage. He turned his head to acknowledge the bartender.

Behind the bar stood him; a rather well kempt pigeon wearing a casual vest and a thin pair of spectacles on his beak. His mustache stretched from beak to cheek, reaching halfway across his face. Brewster was his name, prim and proper.

Slider was nearly to the stairs of the Roost, when the pigeon cleared his throat. Curiously, Slider stopped in his tracks and turned to face the bar.

Brewster had his arm extended, offering a seat to the dog.

Not wanted to be rude (and trying to pass time as it was only 11:40pm), K.K. nodded and walked over to the bar. He sat his guitar against the wall, and sat himself down at the far right corner stool.

"Well," the musician started, "what's up, man?"

Brewster quietly observed him for a few seconds before retrieving something from under the counter. The sound of fine glass clanked onto the counter in front of the canine.

"Coffee," the bartender asked.

Slider simply looked at the cup and shook his head. "Don't have anything to pay with, ya know?"

Brewster folded his arms and continued to observe. "No charge," he said pouring coffee into the cup, "my own special blend, as usual. Hope you enjoy."

The dog looked at the black sludge a little. The bartender noticed and cocked his head slightly.

"Ummm…"

"Something the matter K.K.," the bartender questioned.

"Well actually… I don't like coffee."

There was a long silence, something awful indeed.

Slider knew how much Brewster's coffee meant to him. He did his best to try and keep it in, but when the pigeon offered he just had to force the truth out.

Instead of any offence though, Brewster simply collected another cup, placed it in front of K.K. and received another beverage from below the counter. Orange juice it seemed to be.

"I hope this fits better to your liking," he said pouring the liquid into the cup.

Slider smiled and sipped at the drink. It was his own little of way of saying, "I can dig it."

Brewster made sure to recycle his own drink by simply claiming it as his own, sipping on the piping hot blackness himself.

The animals both let out a little sigh in unison, symbolizing their contentment.

"Soooo," Slider smiled as he put the cup down, "what-is-up?"

The pigeon quietly sipped on his coffee, nearly missing the question completely. Being an introvert seems to have that effect on a person.

He let a bit of a grunt placing his drink down as well. "Nothing."

The dog sitting across from him burst into laughter immediately. "That so," he managed to cough out, "you know, that always seems to be the case with you."

Not phased in the least by the laughter, the bird simply just picked up his wash cloth hanging over his shoulder and began to clean the dirty cups strewn about the bar.

"Well," Slider continued, "if you can dig it, than I can dig it. It's all groovy to me."

With that, the dog took the cup of juice and swigged the rest in his mouth, gulping it down, almost missing the citrus taste completely. He wiped his mouth, and collected his guitar from the wall, slinging it over his shoulder again.

"Really good chat, man," he said jumping off the stool, "we should do it again sometime."

Again, K.K. Slider slowly made his day to the stairway, and again almost made it up the first step when he was interrupted.

"I want you to live with me."

Stopped. Completely stopped. Slider stopped himself completely.

"Excuse me," he asked not even moving from his spot, one foot already on the first step of the exit.

Brewster sighed, and put the cloth and whatever glass he was polishing down. "You heard me," he said sternly.

Slider stepped down from the stairway, and turned to meet the Brewster eye-to-eye from across the room. He just kind of looked at him for a moment, trying his best to analyze him, and his little outburst. Suddenly he remembered something, and it caused him to huff out a small laugh.

"So Tommy was right," he said softly. Not loud enough for the whole room to notice (that is if there were people there), but just enough for the two of them to hear.

Tommy, Brewster thought to himself.

Tommy… Tommy… obviously a cute-ified version of Tom Nook's name, the shop owning raccoon of the town.

"What did Mr. Nook say that was right," Brewster asked Slider.

Slider began his trek again towards the bar area. "Well," he started up, "he told me that there was something about you that had something to do with me. He didn't really give me much dirt though, so I wasn't sure on the details actually. But I think I get it now…"

K.K. Slider plopped himself back onto the stool, this time without removing his gear. He then went and rested his chin on the palm of his hand, smug smile and all.

"You have a man crush on me, don't ya?"

The bartender on the other side didn't answer immediately though. He leisurely took another sip of his coffee, put it down, and collected a small bottle from under the counter labeled, "Pigeon's Milk". He removed the stopper from the glass and poured in a small amount of the chunky substance into his coffee. He pulled a spoon from out of his vest and stirred the cup. Once everything had dissolved, he took another sip.

"Well," Slider asked getting slightly impatient.

Brewster enjoyed the taste of the milk greatly, and tried to savor the taste for as long as possible. Once the cup was empty, he laid it down unto the counter and took a big breath.

"Yes," the pigeon muttered.

BANG!

The sound of Slider's hand coming clean down onto the counter, screaming, "I knew it! Plain and simple, right in front of me!"

Brewster didn't move. He only looked at the strangely excited dog. It was hard for him to gauge a reaction.

"I mean," Slider began again, "I always knew you had something for me. I don't know what it was, man. Like it was empathy or admiration or whatever it was, but man, I knew something was there."

The dog then took a good hard look at the person across from him. Though it was a little hard to tell, the pigeon looked absolutely terrified.

"Oh," Slider coughed out quickly, "don't think I'm upset or anything man. It's cool with me, really! I mean, you're not the first person to have a bit of a crush on me!"

Suddenly, the color from the dog's eyes vanished. He fell into something in his mind, and was lost there for a couple of seconds before snapping back into the reality that was The Roost.

"Is…," Brewster asked with concern, "Is something the matter?"

"Hm? Oh! Its okay, I'm fine. Just thinking about past loves is all, you know?"

"Oh, you mean the two you told me about, before you came to the village?"

"Yeah," Slider sighed, reaching behind himself and collecting his guitar, setting it on his lap.

The guitar itself seemed like any other acoustic set out there, though with two distinct differences. The first one being an indentation on the side of the body that read "Mother of Sound", while the second thing that stuck out was a ratty and tattered blue rag that was wrapped around the top of the neck, under the strings.

Something apparently didn't seem right in the dog's mind, because he was now busy grazing his fingers across both stand outs.

"And," Brewster asked making an attempt to bring the dog back into the room.

"And what," Slider retorted.

"And what do you think of it then?"

"About you and me?"

Brewster nodded.

The white dog shrugged, and began to tap on the guitar's body, creating a slow but rhythmic beat in the process. "I don't have a problem with it, if that's what you're asking. I told you it's cool with me. But…"

But. What horrible, horrible word in these types of situations.

"But, if you're expecting me to return it… well… I don't know. It's still seeping in I guess."

The pigeon sighed to himself and resumed his cleaning duties in the bar.

"I mean," Slider continued, "you are a lot older than me."

"I'm thirty-seven," Brewster said without a flinch, "only nine years older than you."

"Really," Slider said in shock, "it must be the mustache. It makes you look like an old man."

Brewster rubbed his long 'stache for a moment. "I guess that's what I wanted. I didn't want anyone to recognize me. I'm sure you remember why."

"I remember," Slider sighed as he tapped on the guitar a little more.

Slider was probably the only person in the entire town who knew of Brewster's real past. There was the pain that the pigeon had gone through at a young age when his brother had killed himself. Of course, there was also the various lovers he had that took his heart and crushed it beneath their feet. And then there was the fact that he worked for the Pigeon Mob as a hire on hit man, and he had made a couple of … less than excited friends. Even more so, Slider was completely aware of Brewster's real name and previous identity. The dog pondered to himself for a moment as to why he had never asked the pigeon his age in the first place, but quickly returned to the original subject.

"One of these days, I'd like to see you without that thing on your lip," Slider giggled to him.

"You have," Brewster replied, "you just don't remember."

Slider stopped tapping on his guitar and thought for a second. He didn't remember much honestly. Though he did remember waking up in someone's home that one night. Cold, shivering, wet, and starving.

"That was a long time ago, man," Slider remembered, "I was barely even there. I was so out of it."

"You almost died," the pigeon reminded him.

"If you say so," the dog said trying to brush the memory off his shoulder.

"You were asleep for two months straight!"

Slider sat there, the color once again drained.

"I was afraid you wouldn't make it."

He didn't say anything.

"Say something, K.K."

But he didn't say anything.

"Totakeke…"

Upon hearing his birth name, the dog snapped suddenly, picking up the cup on the counter and throwing it against the wall. It smashed into a couple of small fragments before breaking apart some more as they hit the ground. He then proceeded to reached across the counter and grabbed the pigeon by his vest and pulled him in so close, that their foreheads were literally touching. Brewster only saw the rage in his eyes.

"NO," Slider screamed as loud as he could, "YOU ARE NOT ALOUD TO CALL ME THAT! There are only two people in my life who are aloud to call me that, and they're dead!"

He then proceeded to push the bartender half way across the room, causing Brewster to topple to the ground, taking a couple of more glasses with him.

"No one is aloud to call me that," Totakeke muttered as Brewster hit the ground.

The musician suddenly wrapped his arms around his guitar, hugging and muttering things under his breath to it. It was hard to make out what he was saying, but Brewster was sure that he was saying "sorry" or something along those lines.

He did his best to pull himself back up, but Brewster was only able to pull himself up to a sitting stance. "Why only them, though?"

"Because I loved them," Slider replied, "isn't that enough?"

"Why not me?"

"Because…," was the only thing the dog was able to get out.

"Because why?"

"Because you're too old."

"Nine years isn't too much time. Heck, you've even told me some of the older residents here were rather attractive."

"Because you're too smothering."

"I always let you come and go as you please. I don't know what you think you're talking about."

"Because you're my friend…"

"That's right. And shouldn't that at least help us try to get a relationship off the ground?"

"… … …"

"K.K. I know you well enough to know that if you were uncomfortable with me being a man, than you would already have said something already."

"… … …"

"Slider?"

"I don't want anything bad happen to you, is all."

Brewster heard Slider mutter this and decided to pick himself up. "I can take care of myself, Slider, so I doubt anything bad will happen to me."

"It's not you," the dog sighed, "it's me. I've always been a little jinxed. Bad mojo and all that jazz."

"Why do you think that?"

"I don't think it Brewster, I know it."

Totakeke then began to pluck away at his guitar, creating some sort of strange melody.

"If you really want to hear about them, I'll tell you, but I can guarantee you… you won't like listening to it."

Brewster looked puzzled at first, but instead of saying something, decided to shut up so K.K. Slider could talk.

"I was fifteen at the time. Orphaned and the such. No parents around to tell me what to do, so all I could do was just wander around and see what I could find. She stumbled on me at first though."

"Who," Brewster cooed.

"Celia. My first love. The enchanting canary. Honestly, I don't know what attracted me to her. Maybe it was her voice, or the way her fingers moved. She was a pianist actually. Performed in a night club every Saturday at eight o'clock on the dot, and would play for a few hours every night. That's how she got her cash. It was a weekend job, but she made so much in such a little amount in time. Everyone in that clubbed loved her, wanted her, pleaded her… but she never returned them."

"We bumped into each other while in the club. I lied about my age to get in. I think the bouncers knew I was young, but they didn't really seem to care. I apologized to her, and she looked at me. You know what she said?"

Brewster shook his head.

"She said, "kid, I just know you're gonna be something special someday," and then she winked at me. After that, she just suddenly became attached to me. Called me her "sudden savior". She had the most beautiful singing voice I had ever heard. She taught me how to play piano, the different music notes, and even got me a job in the club to make a little ends meat. It was great! Especially 'cause I could listen to her sing every Saturday night. And her song, oh, her song! I never got tired of listening to it."

_**I will sing! Yes, I will sing! And promise all my love to you!**_

_**I will sing! Yes, I will sing! And be all that you want me to be! **_**(2)**

"You know what they used to call her around the club? The Mother of Sound."

"I just loved being around her. I don't know… maybe it was just puppy love or something like it. I mean… she was fifteen years older than me."

Brewster cocked his eyebrow. That got rid of the dogs age excuse.

"Hell, she was even my first kiss… and my first… well, you know. Heh."

Slider sighed passionately under his breath, as the memories flooded back to him. "And then one day, about a year after I met her, she told me that she loved me. Me! I was still just a kid. I didn't care though. I was excited. She then told me… she wanted a baby."

He shifted a little in his seat, and plucked a couple of strings on the guitar again.

"She and I both know the child would have problems. She was a canary, and I was dog, so there was obviously going to be some birth defects. We weren't even the same species. We consulted a doctor, and he told us that the child would probably end up color blind, and possibly have weak bones in his/her leg area. Other than that though, he gave us the okay, and told us to see him periodically."

"It didn't take us long to get pregnant. She had a bun in the oven before you knew it. We were both so excited. We went and shopped for baby clothes, accessories, cradles, and the whole sha-bang. And then…"

Slider sighed.

"What happened to Ms. Celia," Brewster asked, already knowing the outcome, just wanting the cause.

"She was about four months into the pregnancy. We were shopping for baby things, and talking about what to name it if it was a boy or girl. She wanted Walter if it was a boy, and I wanted Melissa if it was a girl. And then, as we were crossing the street…"

The dog brought his hand up and glided in across his face.

"She was hit by oncoming traffic."

Neither of them didn't say anything for a minute.

"They say she died almost instantly. Impact to the brain, they said. Baby died too. Turns out the accident wasn't an accident. The car was driven by one of her former lovers who never got over her. Apparently, he found out we were having a baby together and he just couldn't take it. They found plans in the back of his car to actually burn the club down, and kill me even."

K.K. Slider had the face of a ghost on him.

"I didn't even go to the funeral. I just… walked away after it all. Just wandered somewhere else, I guess. I couldn't take it."

Brewster decided to brave the dog, and walked a little closer to him. "And what after that," he asked Slider.

"I just wandered around for a couple of years after that. It took a while, but I was able to come to terms with Celia's death. I hadn't gotten over it, but I at least came to terms with it."

"Some people never get over something like that," Brewster added to Slider's comment.

"You're right," the dog responded, "I sure as hell haven't."

Another pluck of the guitar, and a tap on the body.

"And then came the man from the desert. This strange feline of a man he was. 'Bout the same age as me and always wore this stupid blue bandana. Called himself Mikel. He found me."

"At the time, I was around twenty-two maybe twenty-three, and I had found myself wandering into some rural wasteland town in the middle of no where. I had no money, no food, no water, no nothing. I needed something to get by, so I decided to perch in that place and make a little money waiting tables. I hated every minute of it. I guess cause it reminded me too much of her and the club. But one person there made it all better."

"Mikel," Brewster asked.

"Yeah. He worked at the same restaurant as me. You wanna know something funny? I had only worked about two shifts when he asked if I wanted to live with him. He knew already that I was homeless and didn't have any real place to go. All I was doing was trying to save up about two thousand bells before I left. But…"

Totakeke cracked a smile.

"…he told me I was going to stay whether I liked it or not. And you know what, I did. He was a friend. Showed me that that little Podunk town was something more, and boy did it. The town had a huge music scene it turned out. Mikel wanted me to get involved, so I took up playing the piano on Saturdays at the restaurant. It wasn't a big deal, mostly little melodies, but the tips were nice, and if I knew the song I would take requests. Usually it was Mikel that requested though. Even gave some of his tip money to me just so he could hear me perform."

Slider strummed on his guitar a little more. "That's how I got this thing. I used the tip money from the restaurant to buy it. Pretty groovy, huh? That's when I started composing music."

"And then one night, while I was playing guitar on the stage… Mikel just came up to me, in the middle of a huge crowd mind you, on a relatively small stage, pulled my guitar away from me, and kissed me…"

Another small smile appeared on his face.

"…I kissed back. I don't know why. I just did."

"After that, we were inseparable. I couldn't stand to be away from him, and vice versa I guess. We even requested the shifts together, but they said it would be a conflict of interest if they did that, so we had to only see each other at home. That was fine though."

"He told me he was my knight in shining armor, and that he would be the one to slay the dragon and save the princess. That always made me laugh: being compared to a princess. One time, I saved his hide from a rattle snake and he goes and has the gall to call me a damsel?"

Slider suddenly chuckled some more. But it didn't last, as his face returned to a look of distress.

"One day, when I had gotten up to go to work (oh, this was about two years later after I met him), I stepped outside the door, and there he was. Dead… not dead… killed."

Brewster found himself closing his eyes and imagining the site. He envisioned the dog stepping out onto his porch and finding his lover dead on the ground. The pigeon shot his eyes open, wishing to not see anymore in his mind.

"How," was the only thing he could say to the downed canine.

"Well," Totakeke started up again, "that's the problem with living in small town community in the middle of a desert. Not everyone agrees with certain lifestyles. A hate gang got him as he stepped out the door. Did some nasty things to him that were not cool in anyone's book. They had carved several words into his flesh… not that I even need to say which ones, but "faggot" was one of them."

"The police found out who had done it, and sentenced them the next day. They said the day they got out, they were coming for me. I was scared half to death of those men, so I fled town immediately."

The musician suddenly let his head rest against the blue rag on the guitars neck.

"I was scared of everything suddenly. I didn't wander anymore… I just ran, ran as far as I could. Eventually, I found some other little town somewhere and just stayed there for a while. Made a little box home near the railroad. Even went as far as to still play on Saturday nights and take requests to any passerby's. I didn't have much with me at the time. Just my guitar and a recording device I had bought with some tip money. I didn't want anyone to pity me, so I made them a demo of my song when ever they heard it. Kind of like a fair trade sort of deal. Like I was trying to say, "don't worry, I'm fine," but I really wasn't."

Brewster was having trouble taking this all in. It just seemed too much for only him alone to hear. He suddenly wanted other people in the bar. He didn't want to be alone with Slider anymore like he originally wanted.

"They both taught me something though," Slider continued, "they both told me that music is soul, and that the soul is meant to be free. If you sell your music, it's like selling your soul. Because of that, I never took money for my demos, or even money for requests. Tips were always fine with me, 'cause it always felt like the audience was saying that they loved my playing, but not my music. I don't know if that makes sense or not."

It makes perfect sense, Brewster thought to himself.

"And now here we are. All caught up in my life: Still homeless, singing in a bar, and trying to make it through day by day, trying to run away from the past. Honestly, I don't even know why I'm still in this town. I've been here for over a year now, and still don't have a need to go somewhere else. Maybe I'm tired is all."

Slider suddenly became more aware of the surroundings around himself. The stories he told to some of the younger customers, the acquaintances he made, the music he played all lingered around him. He then noticed something strange. Brewster wasn't behind the bar anymore.

He suddenly felt something slide around him. They were feathered arms and hands wrapping around his body in gentle warmth, with Brewster laying his own forehead against the back of Slider's.

"I remember when I found you," Brewster cooed in his ears, "I was only visiting that town to pick up supplies for a new recipe, and there you were laying against the wall of the ticket box at the station. You were bleeding…"

Totakeke suddenly remembered it all; a memory he wished to forget.

"Usually," the bird continued, "I probably would have let a person sit there and die, but when I saw you, I could tell. You were in need of someone. Someone to help you. Someone to take care of you. Someone who needed someone also. That's why I brought you here."

"I brought you to my home, Totakeke."

The dog flinched at his name. He looked over to the back of the bar and saw the door.

"It was in there that I nursed you back to health. Sowed up your wrists, gave you food, and water, and tried my best to give you 100. You were always asleep though whenever I tried to get your attention. That's why you don't remember me without my mustache. It was around the time when I had only just abandoned the mob. I guess I was running away too."

He pulled the dog into his chest closer.

"Something about you… something about you made me want to be different. After I left the mob, I didn't want to talk to anyone. Didn't want to make any friends especially, but all you wanted to do was talk. Wanted to know where I had come from and who I was. So I told you, and you were always so interested. You never told me anything about yourself, and I never really wanted to know anything honestly. It would have been rude to ask anyway."

"I noticed your guitar and told you, you could play here anytime you wanted to. You always chose Saturdays though, and I never really understood that until now."

"Over time, with you coming and going, I always wondered if you had a place to stay, and if you were eating right, and if you ever had enough money, but I just kept it all to myself. After a while, I just went back to my usual introverted self and didn't say much to you anymore. But now…"

Brewster took a deep breath.

"I always knew you were the one for me. You and I had felt the same kind of pain. The pain of losing a loved one, having no place to go, feeling pity for ourselves… and even wishing that maybe one day we could get over all of it, when you and I both know we probably never will. Please…"

He hugged as tight as he could, Brewster feeling something that he hadn't felt in a long time.

"…I want you to live with me. Maybe we can't be lovers or anything like that… but I care about you. You tell me you don't want anything bad happening to me… I don't want anything bad to happen you."

Slider suddenly felt humbled. He had heard all of this from his friend, and yet the bird didn't crack a note, didn't stutter, and he didn't even have a tear in his eyes. This person was brave. K.K. envied him.

"Slider?"

The dog couldn't take it anymore. All this time in his life he was keeping away the one's who wanted to be close to him, even love him. All this time he was running away, when he had something right there to keep him safe and warm.

_**You are not alone dear loneliness…**_

_**You forgot but I remember this…**_

_**Stranger, stranger, stranger things have happened you know… **_**(3)**

"You can call me Totakeke," the dog replied to him.

And for the first time since he had been there, Totakeke heard the pigeon laugh. It wasn't even a chuckle, it was full on laugh. Bursting into joy.

"I thought so," the bird laughed.

The dog suddenly found himself falling into the chest of the bird, finding something soft and warm to lie against in such a long time. Totakeke, the free soul musician, felt a goofy smile appear on his face; the same kind of smile that he had given them so many years ago. All he wanted to do now was rest his feet and stay there.

_**I am not alone dear loneliness…**_

_**I forgot but I remember this…**_

_**Stranger, stranger, stranger things have happened you know…**_

This was his home now… He was happy with that…

--

**(1). **The song that K.K. is singing to at the beginning of the fic is the end of "_K.K. Lament_" from the Animal Crossing series (duh!).

**(2). **The song that Celia sings is actually called "_Reunion_" and was composed by Yoko Kanno of the Cowboy Bebop/Ghost in the Shell music fame! Vocals by Donna Cumberbatch. Yay!

**(3). **The song that plays at the end of the fic is actually "_Stranger Things Have Happened_" by the Foo Fighters, off their latest album! Great job fellas!

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:** And that be that people! What did you think, huh? I bet a lot of you are wondering where I got the idea for this couple then, eh? Well? It would make sense if you think about it a little bit. I mean, in Wild World, he's always hanging around Brewster. Hell, most of the time on Saturdays he's always alone with no one but Brewster. I'm sure they talk whenever no one is there. But I digress…

I'm completely aware that the ending was incredibly fluffy, and I apologize if you're not into that kind of thing, but I did my very best, ya know. I never seem to be impressed with my own endings it seems like. Oh well… I'm just a normal gay guy who likes to write slash fiction. Of course, I'm gonna be at least a little critical of my work. Hahahaha!

That said, I think this is the best fic I've written since _English Partners_. And that's saying a lot considering a lot of people consider that my best work.

Thanks for reading again ya'll!

_So Until Next Fic…_

_Adieu…_


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